


with the moon almost full in the sky

by heroic



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Post-The Wicked King, Pre-The Queen of Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21599158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heroic/pseuds/heroic
Summary: You unraveled me,she thinks, unbidden and still licking her own wounds.It was just a trick to you, but you made me weak and vulnerable and I hate it and I hate you.
Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 3
Kudos: 75





	with the moon almost full in the sky

**Author's Note:**

> i call this, "complicatedly making out with the person who turned you inside out"
> 
> jude plz talk/confront your own feelings I'm begging you.
> 
> title from "plant sugar" from turnover

Cardan’s skin goes from scars to soft in an one maddening second under Jude’s hands. His back is covered in crisscrossed scars, raised and thick. They go in every direction, making it impossible to follow the paths of a childhood spent hurting. 

She wants to make them all bleed, like a thousand eyes crying blood. Instead, she digs her nails into the softer parts of him as he kisses down her throat, pinching the unmarred skin that’s hidden between the lashes. There are small patches of smooth flesh, triangles cut out from the rest of the scars, surviving by luck alone. 

It is revealing, the scars, and the openness that dots in between them. It is a weakness that Cardan is allowing her, showing up to the mortal world and pressing against her like this, and Jude wants to plunder that for all its worth. 

She lets out a helpless breath as Cardan nips at her collarbone, smoothing it over with his tongue.

“You hurt me,” she tries to tell him. “You took away the only home I ever had, and before that, you made it hell for me. And you made me think I could be more. Maybe not one of you, but more. And then you took that away from me. You tricked me.”

It is less an accusation, more of a statement. Cardan hums against her neck, and it makes her shiver. She rakes her nails over his back again, harder this time, like maybe she will split the skin open, tear him apart. 

“Have you ever considered, Jude,” he says, and his voice is so honey soft, dripping with a closeness Jude has never known outside of him. He looks up at her, and their eyes meet. His are a dark ring of longing, but a smirk sits crooked against his mouth. “That perhaps you tricked yourself? Deluding yourself into believing that you could ever be more than you are?”

He skims his hands against her sides, ghosts his fingers against her ribs. They are still protruding from her time in the Undersea. “Perhaps,” he continues, “you have never had a home to begin with.”

Jude has to grit her teeth together, has to force herself not to cry. Her tears taste like saltwater, so she never wants to taste them again. “I will hurt you,” Jude tries to proclaim, like maybe the declaration will force it into existence. “I will—”

“Yes, yes,” Cardan shushes her. He crowds against her until he’s all she can breathe, and then he kisses her. It is not harsh and unrelenting, but something bittersweet and coaxing. It makes Jude’s chest feel even hollower. 

When he pulls back, he presses his forehead against hers. “Tell me what you want, Jude, and I will give it to you.” He slides his hands down to her hips, wedges a knee between her open legs until she shudders. 

“You won’t give me what I want,” Jude spits at him. She wants to crack his rib cage open, wants to make him feel as exposed as she does. _You unraveled me_ , she thinks, unbidden and still licking her own wounds. _It was just a trick to you, but you made me weak and vulnerable and I hate it and I hate you._ “Not what I really want." 

But Cardan just sighs against her lips, like he is tired of this game they are playing. "Jude, Jude, Jude,” he singsongs, tilting his head to meet her gaze. Even like this, hair mused and eyeliner smeared, he is undeniably handsome. He gives her a sad, sardonic smile. “I will give you whatever you want. You just have to tell me what it is.”

And there are a lot of things Jude can say: _rescind my exile. Let me come home to Faerie. Take me as your wife and declare me queen in front of the Folk. Let me bend you to your knees and make you feel as much as a fool as you have made me feel._

Unbidden on her tongue, the only thing she wants to say is _you. Just give me you._

_And take me. You have to take me, too._

It is dark when Jude wakes. She is in Vivi’s room, with moonlight slanting in through the open windows. From behind the closed door, she can distantly hear Oak watching a cartoon, Vivi clanging dishes together in the kitchen.

Jude breathes in and out, tries to quell her racing heartbeat. Even in her dreams she is a fool, dreaming of Cardan’s roaming hands, his awful mouth, all the lies he cannot tell her, and then the only one she wants to hear.

He cannot lie. He will never give her that. He wouldn’t even offer.

Jude presses her the heels of her hands into her eyes, wills herself to be angry instead of mournful. Like maybe she can press this hurt out of herself without having to feel the full force of it.


End file.
